See The Fall
by nimblnymph
Summary: A person falls so many times in their life, always picking themselves up again to carry on. But some falls are harder than others. These are the ones that plague our moral sensibilities... and our hearts.
1. Chapter 1

CULTURAL NOTE: Tennin are the Japanese equivalent to angels or faeries. They're beautiful creatures usually wearing colored robes and ornate jewelry. A lot of times, their kimonos are made of feathers due to the fact that they can fly. It was believed that the tennin lived on top of mountains, which prompted pilgrimages to find them at the summit.

* * *

Falling...

Fall of an angel...

You can see the fall...

When you're feeling high

When you kiss the earth

Angel of your mind I'm

Flowing through you

As oceans collide  
From the moon grows the sun  
I'm wasting my breath  
With no name and no one

Silence of the sound  
And the color of the night  
And the sound from the thought  
And the thought from light

-Rain One, Cirque du Soleil

* * *

When he first saw her crouched in the middle of the bridge during a downpour, he'd thought she was a tennin who had somehow found her way off of the mountaintops and into Karakura town. She'd appeared almost luminescent against the shadows surrounding her, a pale figure clothed in white and bathed in the glow of a streetlamp just over her head. The rain loved her, though to judge by the shivers running down her spine she didn't love it in return.

She was soaked through with it, the moisture molding her white robe to her back and shoulders, emphasizing the fragile state she was in. Droplets clung to her dark hair, reminding him a little of black lacquer or very fine silk. Urahara Kisuke tilted his head to the side and frowned as he looked the figure over again. Hmm... perhaps she wasn't a tennin after all. Unless she'd somehow lost her feathered kimono, preventing her from returning to her mountain home.

No, he didn't really think she was one of those mythical women. He just appreciated the poetry of the moment, so to speak. It didn't take a genius to figure out she was a Soul Reaper, just knowledge of the world of spirits. He frowned as she remained unmoving, hunched forward and hugging her knees with her eyes tightly closed. He wasn't sure if the water running down her cheeks were raindrops or tears. He took another step closer, moving slowly so as not to startle her. She remained just as still as before, as if frozen to that one spot of light.

Tentatively, he released a bit of reiatsu into the air, very gently poking at her own energy to determine what sort of condition she was in. His frown deepened when he felt the erratic, uneven pulses coming from her steadily. It reminded him a little of how a butterfly would flap and flitter from one side of the container to the other as it searched for a way out of the glass prison. Soon enough, those desperate flutters would slow and still, the jar on the lid preventing fresh air to get to it. Unless the lid was removed, it would eventually suffocate and die, leaving behind a pretty corpse.

She still hadn't sensed his presence, which told him that her wavering reiatsu was beginning to slip into the final stages. The tennin that he'd mistaken her for couldn't survive off their mountaintops for very longer. Neither could a Soul Reaper without a gigai. Kisuke slipped one hand inside his shirt and removed the small pouch that he carried with him at all times. If he were to open it, one would see a tiny bead inside, no larger than a marble and easily more beautiful than any pearl could hope to be.

This tiny, seemingly insignificant thing was the reason why he found himself walking the night shroud streets during a downpour. The Hogyoku was being searched for with renewed vigor, and it wouldn't be long before the hunters figured out where exactly he was hiding it. Ideally, it needed to be destroyed... but even he couldn't figure out how to do it. Pathetic, really, that he'd made the thing and still didn't know how to break it. The only way he knew to keep it from being discovered was to hide it. Eventually, the container he'd chosen for hiding it in would make it deteriorate and then... it wouldn't exist. The only problem was finding a soul to activate the gigai he'd created for its hiding place.

And now, as luck would have it, here was his opportunity. A Soul Reaper nearing a death so permanent that there would be no coming back. Kisuke continued walking to the hunched figure, his geta clacking more loudly in an attempt to gain her attention. Still nothing. Whatever had happened to strip her of her abilities had certainly rattled her good. She didn't glance up until he was standing over her, courteously holding his umbrella over her head rather than his own.

Pale eyes, a shade that bordered between blue-grey and violet, flashed open and stared in surprise up at him. Kisuke donned his most innocent smile and said, "Hello. It looks like you could use a little help."

Thin brows drew down over those moonlit eyes, which hardened suspiciously as she looked him over. She wasn't stupid, this one. She wouldn't simply accept his aid without questioning it. In a way, it made the task of convincing her more challenging... but in another, he was rather pleased at her caution. It meant she wasn't the type to take needless risks, which also meant that the Hogyoku wouldn't be in danger. Perhaps she _was_ a tennin after all, coming down to make his dearest wish come true.

"Who... who are you?" she demanded, one hand curling into a fist as a defiant spark lit her eyes. So... there was still some fire left in her, eh? How absolutely wonderful! He'd been concerned that perhaps whatever had happened to put her in this condition had stripped her entirely of the will to continue on. This was one of those occasions where he was very happy to be wrong.

"A friend," Kisuke answered, crouching down so that they were on the same level. He'd ready somewhere that when confronting a frightened child, it was best to lower ones self to their plane of view. He kept his voice quiet, friendly without being suspiciously so, and his smile casual. "As it so happens... I have a gigai you can use. If you're interested, that is?"

Before she could even think to hide it, a flare of hope crossed her delicate features before the suspicion returned more certainly than before. He'd caught her interest, that was obvious, but he'd unfortunately made her more wary as well. If only he had more time... "Your name," she insisted, leaning away from him slightly in preparation for a fight or flight scenario.

Kisuke removed his hat, hoping that perhaps if she saw his face she wouldn't be so skittish. Settling onto his knees, he bowed at the waist while carefully avoiding eye contact. "Urahara Kisuke," he replied. "I'm a business man... of sorts."

"Of sorts?"

"My merchandise isn't exactly human friendly. I cater mostly to those from the Soul Society." He took note of the sharp intake of her breath at the mention of that place and ventured a glance at her face through the unruly hair that never seemed to stay out of his eyes. She was staring at him again, her eyes as round as the moon above and filled with wonder.

"The... The Soul Society? How do you know that place?" she asked, her voice shaking as the threads of hope began to weave themselves through her once more.

Kisuke sat upright, his head tilting to the side inquiringly. "The same way you would, I imagine. By having been there."

"Who exactly are you? And be honest!"

"Ah... I'll be more than happy to answer your questions, miss. But wouldn't it be more comfortably done out of the rain and with some tea?" From the eager flicker that traced over her face, the idea of tea and a dry place was very appealing. He replaced his hat where it belonged and held his hand out to her. "Please... I'm not here to hurt you."

She still refused his offer, instead opting to stare at his hand as if it were a snake ready to strike. "How do I know you won't?" she asked slowly, leveling that hard, unyielding gaze on him.

"If I'd wanted you dead, all I'd have to do is wait around for your reiatsu to fade out completely," Kisuke replied patiently, purposely allowing a trace of coldness to enter his words. She stiffened visibly before her jaw set stubbornly. She was making it very clear that she wouldn't go down without a fight. Kisuke chuckled while flashing her the smile that usually got him forgiven by Yoruichi whenever he did something to anger her. "Fortunately for you, I have no intention of doing such a thing. The offer still stands, miss. Whether you accept the kindness of a stranger or not is entirely up to you. If you choose not to... I'll simply leave you here. So, what is it? Hot tea, a warm bed and a loaned gigai, or dying out in the rain, alone and cold?"

She hesitated briefly before slowly reaching out and placing her hand in his. It was almost shocking to his skin to feel how very cold she was. Her hand was incredibly small in his own, her fingers elegant but calloused from using the zanpaku-to regularly. She wasn't just a pretty porcelain package, this one. Anyone who underestimated her would regret it horribly, he could tell.

Kisuke adjusted his grip so that he held her wrist and she followed his example and turned her palm in against his own wrist. He stood first and, keeping their eyes locked, he hauled her to her feet. It wasn't a difficult task by any means. She was incredibly small, not reaching any higher than his shoulders. He was quick about catching her when she stumbled and fell forward, dropping the umbrella in order to keep her from falling completely.

"Damn it," she muttered irritably, her fingers curling into his coat tightly while her legs shook under her.

"It's that bad, is it?" he asked, speaking more into her hair and neck than to her. The scent of rain combined with the too familiar, but long forgotten, smell of a fellow Soul Reaper hit his senses and triggered a pang of nostalgia for a home he would never see again. He closed his eyes for a moment, regaining control of his memories quickly. Even after all these years, it still somehow managed to make his heart freeze.

"This... I've never felt like this before," she whispered, a bit of fear creeping through her voice.

Kisuke shushed her and, without asking her permission, lifted her into his arms. She made a protesting sound and squirmed a little, but he didn't put her down. Reaching down, which was truly awkward when carrying someone in both arms, he managed to pick the umbrella up and pass it over to her shaking hands. "If you would be so kind as to carry that? Not that an umbrella will do either of us any good since we're both soaked through."

A tiny smile touched her lips, there and gone so quick he thought perhaps he might have imagined it. Except, the amusement still lingering in her eyes told him it had been quite real. Kisuke smiled back as she obligingly held the umbrella over their heads. Being mindful of the woman in his arms as he began walking back to his shop, he said, "I haven't asked your name yet, have I?"

She shook her head against his shoulder, her body slowly beginning to relax against him. "No, you didn't."

"Ah. How rude of me. May I ask it now?"

"Rukia. Kuchiki Rukia."

Kisuke had to quickly readjust his arms to keep from dropping her. Kuchiki... As in, one of the four noble houses in the Seireitei. How had one from that prestigious line come to find herself near death and practically on his doorstep? Well... it certainly explained her determination and strength of will. He would ask Yoruichi later to look into the matter a little further... but only after he'd finished hiding the Hogyoku.

Because, even though he knew there was a very good chance that the head of the Kuchiki family would claim his head personally, he couldn't have asked for a better hiding place than one of their kind. There would be no change to the plan because of noble blood ties.

* * *

Author's Note: Well… that's chapter one! This is a gift fic for my dear friend Qualapec the She Wolf, but I do hope everyone else enjoys this as well. Expect updates every two weeks for this one, and thank you for reading. I'm also alerting readers for my Snapshot Series that I'm playing with a very different mindset on Urahara in this one. Don't worry, he's still a jolly perv... but I'm bringing out that serious, slightly darker side a little more for this one. And never fear, Yoruichi is STILL his main lady as far as I'm concerned. This pairing was just too much of a good crack fix to pass up.


	2. Chapter 2

_Fluid and sinking…_

_I melt into the light…_

_With nothing but space…_

_Then my soul can take flight…_

* * *

If she could describe it, she'd say it felt a little like drowning. It was as if she was floating along, slowly sinking as if the water were soaking into her garments and dragging her down. But that initial impression always only lasted for a moment before it felt as if she were simply melting into it, adjusting to the thick pull of something solid and corporeal. There was always a light, something bright and blinding that managed to deaden that particular perception. She had no idea why there was the blinding whiteness. She wasn't sure if anyone really knew. But once she could see again, everything was alright. She could do everything she'd done before, no problem.

But this… This felt different. She really hadn't noticed it until after the light had dissipated and left her feeling strangely… weighted. The edges of her vision were a little blurry, not so much that she couldn't see but enough that it was noticeable. Moving required real effort on her part. She felt sluggish, lethargic as she blinked slowly and lifted her hand to study it. Her entire arm felt heavier than she was used to and the tremor running through her fingers was a testament to that fact.

"This doesn't feel like the gigai they have at the academy," Rukia murmured before sighing heavily and letting her hand drop to the medical table she was currently resting on.

"That's because it isn't like the practice gigai at the academy," came the slightly amused voice from somewhere outside her scope of vision. She heard the clacking of the man's geta as he walked slowly into view. His hat obscured the upper half of his face from view and cast a shadow over the lower portion so that all she could really see was his smile. "The gigai they use to train with aren't nearly of the same quality as a field one."

Rukia frowned, her fingers rubbing the soft white cotton of her robe thoughtfully. 'I didn't know there was more than one type of gigai to use."

Chuckling, he shrugged before tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. "There are a few different types, actually. There are the training ones for the academy. Then, there are the standard issue ones that are used by unseated Soul Reapers. All captains have custom made gigai, tailored exactly to their spiritual energy for better movement whenever they have to enter this world. Of course, that's not including some of the, ah… _custom modified _gigai that exist."

"Hm, I see. So, this is a standard issue gigai then? I'm not sure I like it. Or perhaps I'm just used to the ones the academy uses."

The smile instantly turned into what could only be called a childish pout. There was no doubting from the way his lower lip curled out that what she'd said had offended him, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out how. "Aw, now you've hurt my feelings. This is a one of the kind gigai, designed by yours truly."

That caused Rukia to arch a brow as a slow, humoring smile came to her lips. "_You_ made this gigai?" she asked, an edge of laughter creeping into her disbelieving tone. For some reason, she just didn't see _this_ man creating anything as intricate as a gigai.

A wide grin full of pride stretched across his thin cheeks as he boasted, "I most certainly did! This is a top-of-the-line, one-of-a-kind Urahara Kisuke original model. You're actually one of the first Soul Reapers to use it, Miss Kuchiki."

"Great… I'm a test dummy."

"Hardly. It's a marketing ploy. If someone from such a noble house as yourself likes my work, I'll have customers flocking in for these babies like there's no tomorrow."

Rukia couldn't help the smile and trickle of laughter that escaped her over his words. This man, Urahara Kisuke, was definitely the most unique person she'd ever encountered in her life; equal parts relaxed and sharp at the same time. "Fine, I'm not a test subject. I'm a walking advertisement for Mr. Urahara's Gigai Emporium."

Urahara chuckled lightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "That has a nice ring to it, actually. So then, Miss Kuchiki, what complaints do you have about my product?"

"For one thing, it feels… heavy." Rukia grimaced as she forced herself to sit up, letting her legs dangle over the side of the table. She smoothed her robe down over her thigh to keep it closed while clenching and unclenching her other hand experimentally. "It's as if my reflexes are working on a delayed reaction to what my brain is instructing."

"Hmm… Well, this is a customized model. It's to be expected that you'd have to get accustomed to it. However, it very well could need a few minor adjustments to the reiatsu settings. Sit up straight, please, and hold still." Rukia had to force herself not to turn so as to keep him in sight as he circled behind her. She stiffened when she felt his palm press against her spine, pausing for a moment before pressing just a little to the side.

After a few minutes of him pressing, moving on and pressing again, his hand fell away from her back. "Okay, I found it. Just give me a second and we'll see if this does the trick."

Rukia nodded, peering over her shoulder when she heard him rummaging around in the drawers lining the counter space behind her. She frowned when he pulled out an odd, disc shaped instrument that was perfectly smooth save for the circular creases etched into its polished surface. "What's that?" she questioned, half curious and half wary of what he was holding. While she wouldn't deny his kindness in allowing her to use the gigai, she didn't know him and therefore didn't trust him.

Urahara gave a curious hum before following her gaze to the disc in his hands. "Oh, this? This is just a tool used to break up a knot of reiatsu inside a gigai."

"I don't understand," she persisted, still looking at the instrument with some trepidation.

"As they probably drummed into you at the academy," he began as he twirled one finger in the air to indicate she was to turn around again. "Reiatsu looks a lot like ribbons when it's visualized. Sometimes when a Soul Reaper slips into a gigai, these ribbons get tangled together, forming a knot. This knot can cause slight response issues with the user."

Rukia snorted lightly and said dryly, "There isn't anything _slight_ about this." Granted, there wasn't much she could do to track down and destroy Hollows at that point in time, seeing as she was stripped of her energy at the moment, but she hated feeling so… _helpless._ Rukia flinched when she felt the metal disc through the fabric covering her spine. She jerked upright when a cool, stinging sensation made its way through her skin, radiating outward from the point of contact and spreading throughout her entire back. The closest she could come to describing the invasion was to liken it to a bitingly cold winter wind that was not only burning along her skin but worming its way into her very being.

She had no clue as to how long it actually lasted, but it felt like forever before Urahara stepped away from her abruptly and said as she all but fell over panting, "I think that'll do. Give it a try and see how it works for you."

Sweat was beading across her forehead and cheek, a contradiction to how very cold she felt all over. Slowly, Rukia lifted her hand and made a fist. Her hand reacted almost instantaneously. She gave it another squeeze and rotated her wrist, a frown still etched across her lips as she watched the reaction. "It still seems off," she commented.

Urahara circled around to the front again, frowning as he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… The realignment helped a little bit, correct?"

She nodded and flexed her hand once again. "It's definitely easier, but it's not nearly up to par."

"Mm-hmm. In that case, it's simply a matter of getting yourself used to the gigai. Naturally, you have to take into consideration that you were about two minutes away from dying a couple hours ago."

Nodding, Rukia straightened her legs out in front of her experimentally before letting them drop when her calves began to shake. He did have a point there, she'd give him that. She shivered, her eyes closing as the emotions tied to that memory surfaced once again. Never had she ever been so terrified in her entire life. It was a type of fear that left her feeling numb inside, as if even her emotions were shutting down in preparation for the inevitable. That boy, the one who had leeched her powers from her… She had to find him again, and as soon as possible. Until her reiatsu balanced out, she needed him to cover for her. Otherwise…

Rukia swallowed hard at the thought of someone finding out she'd given her Soul Reaper powers to a human. As Renji used to say, she was in deep shit and sinking fast. She needed a plan, and she needed it fast. Who knew how long it would take her spiritual energy to repair itself? She didn't need Urahara to tell her how close she'd come to dying that night. It was a shame the authorities in the Soul Society wouldn't buy 'near death' as an excuse to transfer her powers.

Sighing, Rukia glanced over at the man standing in front of her, her eyes narrowing at the little smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. "Didn't you mention something about tea?" she asked, adopting the tone of voice she used with Renji when he was being particularly stubborn.

Urahara's smile widened into a full out grin as he bowed. "I believe I did. Care to join me in the living room, Miss Kuchiki?"

Nodding, she pushed herself off of the table… and promptly grabbed it again when her knees began to give out. An arm reached out to circle her waist to keep her from slipping all the way to the floor. Eyes wide, Rukia looked down at her bare feet in shock at the nearly numb feeling running through her legs. It felt as if she'd swallowed a weight that was now sitting in her stomach and dragging her downward. It was vaguely nauseating. "What in the…?"

"Careful now! Remember, this gigai wasn't made for just anyone. It'll take some getting used to in order for you to use it properly."

"Who would ever want a gigai like this?" she snapped, irritated beyond belief that she needed help standing. Gritting her teeth, she used his arm to brace herself as she forced her legs to untangle themselves and support her. The movement pushed her further against his shoulder and side, but he didn't waver an inch under her clumsy extra weight. By the time she was leaning on the table once again, she was breathing hard and feeling thoroughly exhausted.

Urahara remained nearby, obviously in preparation of helping her again should she need it. "This gigai," he explained slowly while watching her under the shaded brim of his hat. "Was made for those who need to disappear."

"Disappear?" she panted, blinking in confusion. A small curling of fear began to make itself known in her stomach. He didn't mean disappear as in die, right? No… He'd said earlier if he wanted her to die all he had to do was sit back and watch. It didn't make any sense whatsoever for him to bother with her if he was going to kill her later anyway. Unless, of course, he was a sadist. Rukia's gaze darted to that patient smile and hidden eyes warily. Images of being strapped down while he skinned her alive flickered through her head before she could stop them. Stupid overactive imagination! He wasn't going to skin her alive. Her brother might if he found out she wasn't using a standard issue gigai… or that she'd given her powers to a human… or that she'd failed on her first solo mission…

His voice cut through her rising panic over what Byakuya would do when he learned she hadn't returned to the Soul Society as he explained, "Meaning, this gigai masks the reiatsu of the user. It takes a little time to fully activate, but eventually no one will be able to trace you. You'll feel just like any human."

Rukia's head whipped around as her jaw dropped at his explanation. "You… It disguises reiatsu? How did you-"

"It's simple logic, Miss Kuchiki. Something stripped you of the ability to return to the Soul Society. I know very well how strict they can be about details like that. You'll need time to recover yourself, time you _won't_ have with every Soul Reaper in the area looking for you. I thought perhaps a gigai that masks your presence might be in order for that reason."

She was torn between being incredibly grateful for his consideration and unquestioning help… and suspicious about what he meant by 'very well'. She wasn't so naïve as to think the Soul Society was without its criminals. Hell, if she wanted to be technical, then she was currently in that same category. But still… "What sort of businessman offers his clients an untraceable gigai?"

His smile immediately made her think of a cat that had just caught a canary. "Only the very best sort, naturally. Now then, how about the tea I promised you? It's a short walk, but it'll help you get used to how the gigai functions. Here, give me your hands, please."

Rukia stared at his hands, palms facing up and waiting for her to take his offer. She hated it, being weak. She hated the fact that her legs were shaking still and her arms were straining to keep her in place. It was perhaps the most loathsome thing in the world that he even offered her assistance… but she wasn't a fool. If she expected to leave the room, his help was necessary. Her lips thinning to a small, irritated line, Rukia released the table and fell forward once again, forcing herself to relax and trust that he wouldn't let her drop.

Her faith was well founded for a change. Urahara took her hands quickly, his grip tightening a little to keep her from falling to her knees. Heart pounding and muscles aching, Rukia managed to gain her footing, using the hold she had on him in order to do it. It wasn't until she was standing relatively of her own will that he loosened his hands around hers cautiously. "Tell me when you're ready to walk, Miss Kuchiki," he instructed, his hands closing over hers again as she began to tilt to the side.

She regained her balance quickly enough and paused to center herself before giving the nod to proceed. Slowly and taking small steps, Urahara began to guide her out of the room and down the narrow hallway that led further back into the residency. As much as Rukia wanted to look around and examine the place, it took all of her focus just to keep walking.

The few feet they moved felt like an eternity to her. By the time he stopped to slide the door open to her left, Rukia was so exhausted all she wanted to do was collapse. Tea didn't even sound good anymore. Sleep… now _that_ would be a welcomed thing! A startled gasp tore from her throat when she suddenly found herself hoisted off her feet and carried into the warmly lit room. "What are you doing?" she demanded shortly before he settled her on one of the many cushions scattered around the low table.

"I apologize, Miss Kuchiki, but the tea was getting cold," Urahara answered pleasantly, either oblivious to the glare she shot at him or uncaring. He took the spot across from her, flicking his jacket back to fan out behind him as he reached for the porcelain tea pot situated on a tray in the middle of the table. "Ah… Looks like Tessai brewed up his special blend for us tonight. He only ever makes it when we have special guests in the shop."

"How nice," she said sarcastically as she took the cup he offered her. She inhaled the scent of the tea… and promptly changed her mind about not wanting it. Whatever this 'special blend' was, it smelled heavenly. A little floral, a little citrus and something else that she couldn't quite recall ever smelling before. She took a careful sip from the steaming cup and groaned in thanks as the warmth immediately began to ease away some of the lingering chill.

Several minutes passed in which her host simply sat silently across from her while she nursed the warm porcelain cup between her hands, occasionally sipping the warm contents and reveling in the feel of it heating its way down her throat and lungs. Her eyes slid closed as the first bit of calmness she'd felt since all of this had started began to creep over her. No doubt this 'special blend' he'd made mention of had some sort of relaxant in it. It wasn't very strong, otherwise Rukia would have called him out on it.

"Now then," Urahara murmured as he poured himself another cup of tea, glancing at her to ask silently if she wanted more. Rukia held her cup out and all but purred as the porcelain cupped between her hands began to grow hot again. "I believe I said I would answer any questions you might have over tea. That offer still stands, Miss Kuchiki."

Rukia traced a fingernail around the smooth edge of the teacup thoughtfully, a small frown turning her lips downward as she regarded the man kneeling across from her. "You said you were from the Soul Society, correct?" At the slight nod from him, she continued speaking. "Then how is it you're here in the human world?"

"Ah. I should have figured you would start there." There was nothing at all reassuring about the embarrassed chuckle that came from him or the way he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, Miss Kuchiki, that is a rather complicated question."

"There's nothing complicated about the question, Mr. Urahara, which leads me to believe that it's the answer which is so complicated."

"Well said."

"So… Either you're a renegade shinigami or a criminal. Which is it?"

Urahara shrugged, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. She could just detect the equally devilish gleam in his eyes under the shady brim of his hat as he said quietly, "Perhaps a little of both. Does that make you uncomfortable, Miss Kuchiki? That you very well could be in the presence of a criminal from the Soul Society?"

It was now Rukia's turn to shrug indifferently as she blew the steam away from her tea. "I'd be lying if I said I was fine with that possibility. I don't trust you."

"You would be incredibly foolish if you did, and you don't strike me as the type to behave foolishly."

"However… I have no choice _but_ to put my faith in you for the time being."

He nodded his agreement and set his teacup on the low table between them before settling his palms on the table top. He was being careful, she realized, to make certain she saw his hands at all times during their conversation. This Urahara was trying very hard not to come across as threatening, a fact that she did appreciate considering her unease around him. "There's always a choice, Miss Kuchiki. You could have chosen to disregard my offer for help and simply died."

"Have _you_ ever been on the brink of death before, Mr. Urahara?" she demanded tightly, her fingers tightening around the porcelain cup in her grip so hard that her knuckles bleached white. Just the very thought of simply giving up was… disgusting. Unthinkable, in fact. 'Simply dying', as he had put it, was _not_ an option for her.

"Yes, on more than one occasion. I meant no offense by what I said, though. I was merely stating a fact. You _could_ have told me to leave and I would have honored that request. However… You didn't. And yet you say you don't trust me." He laughed softly, but Rukia had a hard time seeing what he found so amusing. "You're an awfully strange woman, Miss Kuchiki."

Rukia pinned him with her most haughty glare, one that she had been perfecting under her brother's watchful eye. When all she got from him was a smile and quiet chuckle, she said coldly, "Don't confuse an act of desperation with one of trust, Urahara. As you said, I was near death. I would have taken help from a Hollow at that point."

For some reason, her sarcastic comment sobered him instantly. She could have sworn before he ducked his head down enough to obscure his face from view that he'd winced. "Fair enough. Well, Miss Kuchiki, may I inquire exactly _how_ it is you ended up on the brink of death?"

A flush touched her cheeks as she shifted anxiously where she sat. She wasn't particularly proud of what had happened, considering it had been her first solo mission and everything. It was embarrassing that she'd been unable to keep that boy from leeching all of her powers away. That was, of course, excluding the fact that she'd been forced to relinquish her powers to begin with. If anyone in the Soul Society found out she'd given her powers to a human…

Then again, hadn't he hinted he was a criminal himself? As such, it wouldn't do him any good to turn her over to the authorities, not if it meant drawing attention to himself in the process. Besides that, she felt she _did_ owe him some sort of explanation, seeing as she was borrowing a gigai from him. Sighing and closing her eyes as her fingers curled tighter around her teacup, she mumbled, "I was critically injured during a fight with a Hollow. In order to stop it from rampaging further, I was forced to transfer my powers into another vessel."

"And this vessel was…?"

"A boy with… well, rather impressive spiritual abilities to be honest. I managed to use what little energy I had left to wipe the memories of his family of the incident but that was about all I could do."

She glanced up as Urahara let out a long, low sigh of breath, a twinge of nerves circling her stomach as he scratched a hand along his jaw thoughtfully. "I see," he murmured, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip as he spoke. "And you have no idea who this boy is."

Even though it wasn't phrased as a question, Rukia still responded by shaking her head. "All I know is that he could see me, break through a binding kido and has orange hair."

"Hmm… I wonder if that would be Kurosaki's boy… Did he happen to have two younger sisters?"

Rukia's eyes widened as a wave of utter shock washed over her. Her hands dropped limply from her teacup and her lips parted in a silent gasp as she stared at the man who sat across from her, patiently waiting for an answer. It took her several tries of opening and closing her mouth before she managed to whisper, "Yes… That's right. How did you…?"

Urahara's lips curved into what could only be termed as a coy grin as he shrugged and tapped the fingers of one hand across the tabletop idly. "There's very little that I don't know about Karakura Town, Miss Kuchiki. That's one of the many benefits of being under the radar, so to speak. It's fortunate for you, however, that I _do_ happen to know of the boy you just described. He's a student at the local high school. And, if what you say is true about his dormant abilities, this could prove even more advantageous for you than you might think."

"And how do you figure that, Mr. Urahara?" she demanded skeptically, trying her best to ignore the little puff of hope that was daring to surface. She refused to trust in it now, seeing as everything so far about this assignment was going completely wrong.

Urahara leaned forward across the table, his eyes locking on hers as a sly smile crossed his lips. "If the Soul Society notices that the Hollows in the area aren't being dealt with, they'll send someone to investigate the reason for this. That means you'll be discovered long before your powers have a chance to return, which, as has been already established, doesn't bode well for either you or this boy. However, if you can perhaps talk this young man into assuming your duties until your recover…"

"… Then it will either keep anyone from finding out or take them longer to discover what had happened," she finished in a soft, breathy voice. It was an insane plan. No… it was brilliant. It was insanely brilliant, and it was so simple. All she had to do was find that boy again, this Kurosaki that he'd mentioned, and persuade him through whatever means necessary to work with her. I would take the Soul Society at least a couple weeks before they figured out she was still missing. But by that time, her powers _should_ be returned to her. This was it. This was her only option.

Smiling to herself, Rukia brought her cup to her lips and drained off the rest of the cooled tea. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow, I'll find this Kurosaki and make him do my job until my powers return!" She slammed her teacup down on the table with a loud thud and a triumphant little laugh.

"A moment please, Miss Kuchiki," Urahara interrupted, holding up a hand to get her attention. "First of all, I believe I'm right in assuming this is your first unsupervised excursion into the human world, correct?"

"Your point?"

"My point is… You hardly look the part of an average human girl attending high school. You'll need to blend in to escape detection."

Rukia arched a brow and crossed her arms over her chest, a small smirk touching her lips. "Let me guess, you just so happen to have the necessary items to make me blend in… for a price, of course."

Urahara chuckled and spread his hands in an I-give-up gesture. "As it so happens, I _do_ happen to have a Karakura High uniform in stock. But I won't charge you for it. In all honesty… I'd be _much_ happier just to see you in it."

"And what does _that_ mean?" she snapped, not at all comfortable with the slight leer he directed her way.

"Oh, nothing! Forget I said anything," he said quickly, waving his hand as if to chase off the comment. "The uniform is still yours though, if you're willing. And I can also provide you with the necessary documentation to enroll you as a new student. Once you're in the school, however… It's entirely up to you to locate the boy and speak with him."

Rukia nodded slowly, still not fully believing him that his comment was 'nothing'. The plan sounded good but then again so had the plan for entering the human world to begin with. Still, she couldn't very well allow a juvenile human boy run around with her abilities unsupervised, now could she? And Urahara did have a point about blending in. Simply masking her reiatsu wouldn't be enough, not if those sent to track her down knew what she looked like. It would only be easier to pinpoint her if she stood out from the crowd.

"Once I find him," she said slowly after several seconds of thoughtful silence. "How do you propose I separate his spiritual half from his physical?"

Urahara tipped back the rest of his tea in one go before setting the cup back on the table with deliberate care. Rukia couldn't suppress the light shiver at his smirk as she rubbed her hands together under the table to stimulate some warmth. "Why, as it so happens, Miss Kuchiki… I have just the item for the job," he replied with feigned innocence.

"Really?" she drawled, her eyes hardening as her lips pursed into a thin line. "And the cost of such an item?"

"Is negotiable and will only be discussed after you get some rest. Enough business has been conducted for one evening, don't you think?"

Rukia couldn't help the little smile in answer to his suggestion. Shaking her head as she glanced toward the open door of the room, she noted that the light in the hallway coming from a nearby window was now the dull, cold grey of early morning. She hadn't gotten any rest in over twenty-four hours now. The combination of that with the stress from the night before was finally catching up with her, and the thought of sleep sounded like paradise itself. "Yes, that sounds just fine."

"Unfortunately, I don't have any guest rooms but if you'll accept you're more than welcome to take mine."

She declined by shaking her head and curling up on the cushion she was sitting on. "I'm fine here," she mumbled, tucking her arms under her head as her eyes closed heavily. Sleep was already sucking her under, uncaring that she was technically sleeping on the floor in a stranger's house. She hummed sleepily when something was settled over her, something light weight and body warm. It wasn't until the door to the room slid closed and her fingers were curling into the soft silk covering her that she realized she was using his coat for a blanket. At that point, however… it didn't really matter. All she wanted was sleep.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It has been sooooo long since I've read the beginning of Bleach, so I apologize if any information is off. If it is, I TOTALLY wanna know so don't hesitate to say so! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

_So, let me fall,_

_If I must fall._

_I won't heed your warnings_

_I won't hear them…_

_-Let Me Fall, Cirque du Soleil_

* * *

"So… this is what the people here wear?" She fingered the short skirt that barely covered her thighs distastefully, a dubious brow lifting as she studied the pleated article. "It seems a little impractical."

Kisuke smiled and shrugged, secretly liking the fact that the skirt was just a _little_ short than was probably acceptable at school. There was only one reason why he had a school girl uniform in his shop, and it was _not_ so that Ururu could play dress up. But Miss Kuchiki didn't need to know that. "Fashion usually is, or at least that's always been my observation," he replied amicably, tipping his own fashion faux pas lower over his eyes. "Just be mindful of bending over and you'll be fine."

She snorted and a wry smirk tried to make itself known on her lips. "Oh, I don't know," she mocked, settling her hands on her hips and giving him a rather mischievous look. "That could work to my advantage; distract everyone with an illicit shot of my panties and run for it while they're all in a stupor."

That… was an intriguing notion. He could just imagine the mayhem that would ensue when the newest student in school suddenly gave everyone an eyeful of her Chappy printed underpants. Yes, he already knew what kind of panties she was wearing. He'd been the one to acquire them for her, after all. She hadn't been too comfortable with the notion of him finding her panties, and he'd initially been reluctant to inform her that the only underwear in his shop was, regrettably, the kind with Chappy the Rabbit printed squarely on the ass. But the minute she'd spotted that rabbit's face (and saw that the bra matched the panties), her eyes had lit up and she'd all but ripped the articles from his hand to put on.

He wasn't sure if it was interesting or disturbing that she seemed to have a fetish for smiling, cartoon rabbits. At least it had made her more agreeable to the, ah… slightly short skirt. And he had to admit that the uniform _did_ look good on her. It was practically a crime against nature that those legs were typically hidden underneath baggy hakama.

Kisuke took a deep breath and released it slowly, watching her as she twisted around in front of the full length mirror he'd had Tessai pull out of storage for her use. She was definitely more active than she had been the night before, which was a very good thing. She'd come dangerously close to figuring out that the gigai he was loaning her wasn't, in fact, normal at all. He hadn't lied to her when he'd told her it was custom made to mask the reiatsu of the user. It did… but it worked in conjunction _with_ the hogyoku that was now safely hidden inside her. The gigai acted as a buffer for spiritual energy while the hogyoku slowly broke that energy down and converted it into another matter; life. And, once all that energy was converted… the hogyoku would cease to exist.

He wasn't ashamed to admit that when she'd commented on how the gigai didn't feel right, his stomach had done a really nauseating back flip. Fortunately though, it was just a simple matter of untwisting the reiatsu rather than her picking up on the hogyoku's presence. Any differences in the way she moved or the lack of spiritual energy she could draw upon was now apparently being blamed on shoddy craftsmanship. It hurt his ego something fierce that she didn't know just _how_ very well made the gigai was… but he'd just have to suck it up and sulk in private. The supply closet in back was a good place for that sort of thing.

Kisuke reached inside his coat and pulled out some neatly folded documents from the inside pocket. The movement had caught her attention, causing her to stop tugging futilely at the back of the skirt to keep it from rising up. She frowned as he unfolded the documents and passed them over to her. "You'll need these," he explained as she looked the papers over curiously.

"And what exactly are these?" she demanded, leafing through the papers as she scanned them over quickly.

"Documentation to get you into the school of course. You've got everything you'll need right there; transfer papers, transcript of grades, proof of tuition… Everything."

Miss Kuchiki nodded thoughtfully, her features softening a little as she continued reading the details. "So… a black market dealer _and_ a forger," she mused, sparing him a look over the edge of the papers. "Anything else you want to add to the list?"

"There's nothing black about my market, thank you very much. And you forgot to mention incredibly handsome, wonderfully intelligent and witty."

"When those are traits you actually possess, I'll add them on."

Oooooouch. Kisuke winced, pressing a hand to his chest as if his heart were about to shatter into a million pieces. All that act did was make her smile widen. She was truly heartless. Sighing dismally, he handed her two small cards, both of which were laminated. "Here, you'll need these as well. School ID and proof of citizenship."

She took them from him absently, all her attention focused on one of the papers he'd given her before. Eyebrows pinching together as a dark scowl turned her lips downward, her blue eyes flashed angrily in his direction. "This says here my mathematics are below average."

"Well…"

"My math skills are _not_ below average!"

Rubbing and hand along the back of his neck sheepishly, Kisuke shrugged and offered up an apologetic grin. "I apologize, Miss Kuchiki, but my colleagues and I didn't have enough time to completely forge the documents. We had to… borrow someone else's academic information."

Miss Kuchiki's eyes narrowed as she clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Great. So now I have to pretend to be an idiot," she said tightly.

"Not completely. I mean, your language skills are above average at least."

"Then I'm an idiot with a big mouth. How wonderful."

Kisuke hung his head heavily and let out a soft groan. He couldn't win for losing some days. Rubbing his eyes wearily, he repeated more firmly, "We did the best we could with such short notice, Miss Kuchiki. If you'd given us one or two more days, we could have had documentation more suited for you. Seeing as you were insistent on finding this boy right away… this is the best we can offer."

Her lips twisted ruefully as her grip on the papers tightened ever so slightly. Then, with a haughty tilt of her chin, she folded the papers and tucked them into the pocket of her blazer. "Well, it isn't like this is going to be a long term situation or anything. I suppose I can make do."

His brow arched slowly at her confidence as he flicked the rim of his hat back just enough for her to meet his gaze. "I don't make it a habit of being pessimistic, Miss Kuchiki, but this isn't something that can be resolved in only a couple days. Spirit energy is a very fickle, delicate thing."

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a distinctly displeased looked. "Then what do you suggest?"

He shrugged and rubbed his jaw idly. Two days worth of growth scratched against his knuckles, reminding him he should probably shave today. There _were_ ways to separate the reiatsu from a person, but none of them would work in this situation. For one thing, from what he understood of the situation it sounded like this boy acted almost like a vacuum for spiritual energy. He had taken a lot more of Miss Kuchiki's energy than she'd anticipated, which meant he had some of his own to begin with. Separating it from him forcibly could do damage to his own reiatsu.

Then, of course, there was also the fact that Miss Kuchiki was no longer capable of containing reiatsu. Without her, the energy had nowhere else to go.

Naturally, he couldn't explain all this to her so instead he said slowly, "My advice would be… wait and let it return naturally. He can't hold you power forever, after all. It's _your_ spirit energy. But to forcibly remove it from him would be extremely dangerous. At best, the reiatsu would dissolve completely. At worst, the boy could die. It _is_ a possibility… but do you want to attempt it?"

She didn't even take a moment to consider his request. She pinned him with a scathing look and bit out curtly, "Of course not! I didn't save his life just to risk killing him again! What's the logic in _that?"_

Even though he knew the topic wasn't very funny, he couldn't help the light chuckle at her indignant outrage. Plucking his hat from his head and holding it to his chest, Kisuke bowed deeply to her. "Well answered, Miss Kuchiki. Unfortunately, this means you'll have to simply wait it out until your powers return."

"Any idea on how long that could take?" she pressed, still glaring at him. It was good to see she had such a healthy respect for life… but did she still have to look at him like she had half a mind to knee him in the groin?

Letting out a long, low breath that ruffled the hair falling into his eyes, Kisuke shook his head, his arms rising away from his sides to indicate he didn't have the answer. "It could be a week. It could be a year. There's no real way to gauge something like this since there are so many affecting variables." This time, his answer was completely true. The only thing she didn't know was that her reiatsu wasn't going to return at all.

Miss Kuchiki made a humming noise that was part speculation and part displeasure at his response. After several seconds of mulling the situation over, she finally sighed heavily and murmured, "Very well then. I'll just have to make do."

Smiling as reassuringly as he could, Kisuke crooked his finger at her, beckoning her to follow him. "I do have a couple more items for you, Miss Kuchiki. Though, unlike the paperwork… I'm afraid I _will_ have to charge for these."

He heard her give a short, dry laugh as she followed him from the living area into the back portion of the shop where all Soul Reaper business was conducted. "Put it on my tab," she replied sarcastically, causing him to grin over his shoulder at her. She had a fantastically quick wit. It was a shame things had to be the way they were though. Finding someone to exchange clever repartee with was such a rare thing.

Kisuke pulled a small ring of keys from the hidden pocket inside his sleeve as they approached one of the many locked doors lining the hallway. This part of the shop was essentially a giant warehouse that stored all of the items his otherworldly clientele wanted. Some of the items were inventions of his that had been tested and deemed fit to sell. Other items were obtained from the Soul Society itself by… connections. It wasn't quite the black market that Miss Kuchiki had stated, but it certainly wasn't completely in the white. He liked to think of it as being a medium-ish shade of grey.

He found the key he was looking for and undid the padlock. The padlock was there to keep any human customers from poking around in his affairs. It certainly wasn't enough to keep out a determined Soul Reaper. That was what the wards just inside the doorway were for. Anyone who didn't know how to unravel them would be lucky if getting their brain fried was all that happened.

Kisuke slid the door open and put out his arm to stop Miss Kuchike when she made as if to enter. "Careful now," he cautioned as he knelt in the door way and began drawing on his own spiritual energy. "Don't wanna set off a booby trap, now do we?"

She gave an irritated huff but remained where she was standing while Kisuke slowly traced a finger along the edge of the entry way. Undoing a warding kido was a little like unraveling yarn that was twisted and knotted up on itself. One wrong tug and there'd be an unfixable problem. Right now, he was trying to find where the end of that thread was. It _should_ be on the floor near the entrance… but that was never a guarantee. It all depended on who had entered the storeroom last.

Triumph was his when he found it tucked neatly in the right hand corner, exactly where he'd left it. As soon as his finger connected with the thin line of energy, it reacted as if he'd suddenly charged it with electricity. A slightly thrum of energy surged from his finger up his arm, an odd sensation of being tickled and pinched at the same time. There was a slight whoosh as the entire entry way lit up in pale blue-white light. That light raced from the point of contact between him and the kido, tracing each and every curve and twist as it crisscrossed over the doorway.

He heard her gasp from behind him and glanced up at her with a small smile as her eyes tried to keep up with the flow of energy. There was no rhyme or reason to the pattern, nor did the strands stay fixed in one place. They constantly swayed and shifted, tightening and loosening the knots as it moved. Gaps that would have been big enough for Ururu or Jinta to crawl through were there for the blink of an eye and then gone again as the blue lines filled it in.

Kisuke couldn't help feeling a little pleased with himself as Miss Kuchiki continued to gape at the intricate kido in surprise. "And now, for my next trick…," he quipped, just as he unleashed his reiatsu into the tangled web. Immediately, a reddish tint began to weave its way over the blue, turning the threads an ugly purple color before the red sank in fully. Wherever the red traveled, the cords began to unwind themselves, hissing like silk against stone when they touched. Once unwound, the red strands pooled in a neat pile near his knees, coiling itself neatly and laying completely still.

It only took a minute to undo the kido and she stood there watching it the entire time with an open mouth. The last of the ward fell down completely, leaving a neat little bundle of glowing red on the floor. Kisuke stood up with a sigh as he shook out his hand a little to lose the lingering tingles from where his energy and the kido's had clashed. He stepped over the now safe threshold and reached over to flick on the overhead lights. Halogen bulbs flickered a few times before coming up and bathing the room in a dull glow. Yes, he saw the irony of having a top-notch security system and really poor electrical. But all the warehouses in the movies had shady lighting, so why should his be any different?

Kisuke had only taken a couple steps into the neatly organized room before he realized his customer hadn't followed him. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyebrows rose as Miss Kuchiki continued to run her fingers over the doorway. "I assure you, it's completely safe," he called to her, causing her to jump.

"I've never seen a binding spell like that before," she commented softly as she hurried into the room after him. "You didn't have to verbalize it either! That's incredible!"

The amount of awe in her voice actually made a touch of heat come to his cheeks. Clearing his throat lightly, Kisuke bowed his head in her direction and said, "You're being far too kind, Miss Kuchiki." There were far better kido users than him in the world, two of which he was very good friends with. If she thought that was something, he couldn't imagine what she'd do if she ever witnessed Tessai giving it his all.

"Still… It _was_ impressive," she insisted. "Just who are you again?"

"Urahara Kisuke, a humble shopkeeper." He grinned at her when she rolled her eyes. In a way, it was a little sad she hadn't heard his name mentioned before. He'd at least thought the Soul Society would have used him as an example of what _not_ to do. How disappointing his 'truant' behavior was no longer being talked about.

"With skills like that, you'd be very useful in the Soul Society. You _might_ even be good enough to make second seat."

Her words were both amusing and painful at the same time. She had no idea that he'd been just a _little_ higher ranked than second seat, nor did she know the circumstances that had changed that. She didn't know how much it still hurt to think he would never be able to return there again.

Before she could go any further with that line of conversation, Kisuke said in a convincingly collected voice, "If you intend to have this boy act in your role, you're going to need two things; a pager and a means to separate his spirit from his body. I'm currently all out of gikongai, so you'll have to use something else."

"Which is…?"

Smiling, Kisuke stopped at a row of shelves and pulled out a thin, white box. He lifted the lid and removed the item from inside, handing it to her to inspect. "I'm sure you've seen one of these before."

Miss Kuchiki grimaced and nodded as she tugged the leather glove in place on her hand. "They used these at the Academy for gigai training. Will this actually work on a human?"

"It should. You might have to smack him a little harder than usual to get it to work, but it should do the job."

She nodded slowly as she pulled the glove free and tucked it into one of her pockets. "This is fine for now, but if this takes longer than one week I'll need you to order some Soul Candy."

Cringing at the use of the term 'Soul Candy', Kisuke nodded once. "I'll see what I can do."

"Also, if it's possible… I want a Chappy dispenser."

Again with the rabbit… Sighing, he repeated, "I'll see what I can do." While he didn't understand everyone's fascination with the white creature, he _did_ understand the concept of supply and demand. The higher the demand, the more the supply. Sometimes though, it was impossible to maintain an even balance between the two. And that was exactly the case with Chappy the Rabbit; so many people wanted him that keeping up with demand (or acquiring the supply) was difficult. He hadn't even been able to procure the Chappy plushie for Ururu's birthday a few months back. He doubted he'd be able to get a dispenser… but he always did like a challenge.

A satisfied smirk came to her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest once again. "And the pager?"

He motioned for her to continue following him. "This way. It's last year's model, I'm afraid."

"Nothing a little more… new?"

"Sorry, no. Getting a hold of the latest is a little tricky, and the few that I did have in stock have already found nice homes. However… I _did_ manage to tweak the old ones so that they're at least comparable in function. The detection time is now between point-four to point-six seconds of Hollow appearance, which is just about where the newer model is at."

She didn't look entirely pleased to be using a rigged model, but she took it anyway when he handed to her. Kisuke kept the friendly look on his face as she turned the device on and began fiddling with the buttons. If he weren't convinced that he was already going to hell before, he certainly was now. How many lies had he told her? Well, whatever the number was it needed one more added on. The pager _was_ an older model and he _had_ done a customizing job on it, but it went a little further than simply increasing the detection time. That particular pager was the same one he gave to Ururu and Jinta. It not only detected Hollows but also acted as a homing beacon that he could use to track the carrier.

Now, he'd know exactly where she was, every minute of the day. While he was fairly certain the hogyoku was safely hidden away inside her, there was still the chance that trackers from the Soul Society could show up any day and reclaim her. Considering someone from Soul Society was after the orb to begin with, he wasn't taking any precautions concerning its safety. Miss Kuchiki was not only the means to destroying the hogyoku but she was also serving as bait to lure out whoever tried to take it to begin with.

Kisuke's attention was drawn to the door as Ururu shuffled into view, her wide eyes studying the floor timidly as she folded her hands in front of her. "I don't mean to interrupt," she said softly, causing his customer to whirl around in surprise. Ururu flinched a little at the sudden movement but she recovered quickly and gave a polite, if hurried, bow. "I-I'm sorry. But, Mr. Urahara… _She's_ here to see you."

That made his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really?" he drawled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well… This is certainly a pleasant surprise." Then, turning to Miss Kuchiki, he touched the shady brim of his hat and motioned for her to proceed him. "I'm truly sorry, Miss Kuchiki, but this is a rather… _special_ client."

"Is that so?" she questioned tightly, giving him a disapproving look. "Please, don't let me keep you from your _business_." The way she said the last word made it obvious she thought he was entertaining a woman, and _not_ in the polite host sense either. Most people would have been offended of that assumption. He, thankfully, was not like most people.

A slow, teasing smile spread across his lips at her misunderstanding as he met her gaze steadily. "You're welcome to join us if you want, Miss Kuchiki. I'm certain she wouldn't mind in the least," he drawled, putting just the right amount of purr to his voice to substantiate her false assumption. Really, how could he pass an opportunity like this by?

The bright burst of pink across her pale cheeks made him chuckle under his breath. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to find her voice again. Ururu, who was still standing in the doorway, remained completely oblivious to the slightly inappropriate exchange. Thank goodness for the innocence of youth.

Still chuckling, Kisuke pulled his fan out from his sleeve and began walking toward the door. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Kuchiki, I have a pussy that needs attending." He flicked the fan open with a quick motion and ignored the indignant sound from the woman behind him. "Ururu, will you please get Miss Kuchiki situated with school books?"

"Oh! Yes, Mr. Urahara," the girl said as she stepped hastily out of his, her eyes down turned to study her bare toes. She looked up though when he patted her head kindly, a happy, bashful smile just barely curving her lips. Kisuke smiled and winked back as he moved passed her. If there was one thing he really loved in the world, it was seeing that girl smile.

Kisuke swung Benihime idly as he walked down the narrow hall of the storage area back into the main housing portion of his establishment. He didn't need Ururu to tell him where she was waiting. Even if he hadn't already know, he'd become so intoned to her presence that he would have sensed her anyway. There was no way Shihouin Yoruichi would ever be able to hide herself completely from him, not even in her cat form.

As he'd suspected, she was right where he knew she would be. He leaned against the doorframe to his room and grinned at the black ball of fur curled up in his rumpled sheets, purring up a storm in the warm sunlight coming from the partially open window. She looked like she was sleeping, but he knew she wasn't. Yoruichi was waiting for him to make the first move.

"So… It's been seven months, twelve days and thirty-four hours since you last graced me with your presence," he said in greeting. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like me."

Slowly, one golden eye opened to regard him dryly. "You're assuming I liked you to begin with," she replied before breaking off into a wide yawn that showed off painfully sharp teeth to perfection. She held his gaze steadily, her eyes reflecting the same defiant mischief that he was used to seeing in human form. Slowly, she arched her back and stretched her paws out in front of her… and purposely sank her claws deeply into his nice sheets. She gave a couple tugs just for good measure before sitting upright and flicking her tail back and forth over his pillow.

Kisuke frowned at the new snags in his sheets and sighed heavily as he rubbed a hand down his face. "Are you mad at me, Yoruichi?" he questioned, hoping that the answer would be no. The last time she'd been mad at him she'd disappeared for seven months, twelve days and thirty-four hours… _after_ leaving a host of dead mice in his hat. At the time, he'd been more upset over the hat than her leaving.

"No, not yet. But that can always change. Why do I smell Soul Reaper all over your bed?"

"Is that jealousy I hear?"

"Is that avoiding the question I hear?"

Laughing softly, Kisuke ventured over and dropped onto the bed beside her, smirking as the force of his landing nearly toppled her over the side and onto the floor. Yoruichi gave him a dirty look, which he ignored in favor of picking at one of the snags she'd made. "I had an unexpected guest, that's all," he replied honestly, purposely leaving off any of the details. He already knew what she was going to say about it and he didn't feel like explaining he really had no choice.

Yoruichi rearranged herself on the bed, tucking her tail safely under her stomach and curling her paws toward her chest. Her eyes drifted closed once again and she immediately began purring when he scratched under her chin lightly. After several seconds in which neither of them said anything, she cracked one eye open and said in a lazy, contented tone, "Let me rephrase that; how did an unexpected guest from the Soul Society find their way into your bed, and just who _is_ this unexpected guest?"

Sighing, Kisuke tugged his hat down to cover his entire face and mumbled reluctantly, "I found her last night on the Miyasuki Bridge. She'd just fought off a Hollow and in the process she'd been stripped of her power." He couldn't see it, but he could feel that both golden eyes were now open and watching him suspiciously. "So… I brought her back here and gave her a gigai to borrow."

"Kisuke… you didn't." Her voice was a mixture of aggravation and horror. She was no longer purring and was now so still that he knew he was about to get a vicious swipe if he wasn't careful about what he said.

He rolled over onto his side, his hat spilling off his head to roll across the bed behind him. As casually as he could, he pulled his hand out of striking distance and gave her a hard look that matched the one she was giving him. "It was an opportunity, Yoruichi. Possibly the only one that we would have had."

Her groan sounded a little like a growling purr as she covered her nose with one paw. "Why?" she moaned. "Why did the fates have to stick me with you?"

"Aww… I'm not _that_ bad," he pouted.

The glare she flashed him said otherwise. A sharply exhaled breath made her fur covered cheeks puff out irritably. "Does this mystery woman have a name?" she grumbled, her tail lashing furiously across the sheets.

Ah… the one question he'd been hoping she wouldn't ask. Flinching in preparation for the pain he knew was about to come, Kisuke quickly mumbled, "KuchikiRukia."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me."

"You know damn well I didn't!"

"Perhaps we should have a vet check out your- OW!" Kisuke rubbed the fresh red marks on his hand and sulked. Yoruichi was growling under her breath as he examined his hand. No blood had been drawn, but the only reason he wasn't was because it had been a warning scratch. If he didn't answer her honestly, he was going to walk away from the discussion with shredded skin. Edging away from her further, Kisuke cleared his throat and said clearly, "Kuchiki Rukia."

There was a beat of silence before Yoruichi screamed, "_Are you out of your damn MIND?!"_

Kisuke rolled away quickly as sharpened claws went lunging for his face. His arms flailed wildly as he fell off the side and hit the ground hard, wincing as it jarred his back. "Yoruichi! Can't we talk about this in a civilized fashion?" he called as he just narrowly dodged another attack that would have hit him in a _very_ painful place.

"We'll talk _after_ I kill you," she snarled back, hissing fiercely as her hair rose from head to tail. "What in the hell were you thinking, Kisuke? A _Kuchiki?!_ This better be another of your ridiculous plans that eventually works out in the end!"

"It is, I assure you," Kisuke placated calmly from across the room. Yoruichi remained on the bed, body tensed to pounce should he as much as twitch in a way she didn't like.

"Well?" she demanded tersely. "Let's hear this _brilliant_ plan of yours!"

Kisuke's eyes slid away from hers, studying a point on the wall as he continued to hold his hands defensively in front of him. "To be honest," he said slowly. "I haven't _quite_ planned beyond these initial steps. _However_-," and here he pushed himself up against the wall when she made as if to lunge off the bed for him. "The main objective to conceal and destroy the hogyoku has been taken care of. All we need to do is buy the time needed to complete the process."

To his relief, Yoruichi very carefully sat back on her haunches and regarded him coolly. She was still furious with him but at least her claws were sheathed… temporarily. "You do realize there's a very good chance Byakuya will be one of the ones sent to find her once it's discovered she's missing, correct?"

Shoulders sagging in relief, Kisuke slid down the wall until his knees were bent nearly to his chest. He draped his arms over the tops of his knees and nodded solemnly. "I realize this. But in all honesty, Yoruichi… who better than one of the Kuchiki lineage to act as a host for the hogyoku? She's smart enough to stay under the radar. She's not foolish enough to take unnecessary risks. I doubt I could have picked a better candidate myself."

Snorting dryly, Yoruichi's muzzle turned up in the equivalent of a kitty-smile. "Stop right there. Any more gushing and I'd be inclined to think you've fallen for this girl."

Kisuke grinned at her, relieved that he was back in her good graces. "Aww, you know that's not true! You're the only woman for me, Yoruichi."

"Yeah. Sure. How many other women have you said that to?"

He snickered at her joke and motioned for her to come closer. Feigning an air of grudging acceptance, Yoruichi hopped neatly off the bed and padded over, her muscles shifting and rolling smoothly under her sable fur. Cat form or human… Whichever she was in, Yoruichi was the epitome of grace. When she was close enough, Kisuke scooped her up and held her to his chest, ignoring the token protest she gave to being snuggled shortly before she arranged herself more comfortably in his arms. She was purring again, the vibrations moving through his chest soothingly.

"Listen," he murmured gently as he combed his fingers through her short fur. "Remember the last time I asked you to just trust me?"

"… It was during the war with the Quincys, wasn't it? You wanted half my division for a counterattack, as I recall."

"Mm-hm. And you let me have them. You not only trusted me with your people but with a strategy that, if it went wrong, would have spelt disaster for all of the Soul Society."

Yoruichi sighed grumpily and muttered, "Alright… I'll trust you on this. But when Byakuya puts your ass in grass for using a member of his family, I get to say 'I told you so'."

"My dear Yoruichi, not only will I allow you to say it, I'll even have it carved on my headstone." His joke earned him a louder purr, which meant she was laughing. Being mindful of the bundle in his arms, Kisuke pushed to his feet and went over to the bed to collect his hat once again.

"Do I get to at least see this girl?" she asked as they exited his room.

Kisuke fixed his hat in place again and stifled a yawn behind his hand. "Hm? Oh, sure. Tessai is going to be escorting her to the high school in a few minutes. Shall we go and see Miss Kuchiki off?" Without waiting for her to reply, Kisuke strolled casually out into the shop area, smiling at the patrons already wandering the aisles. Most of his clientele during the morning hours were housewives doing their grocery shopping but the occasional youngster could be seen poking at the candy shelves, obviously having decided to skip their first class.

Tessai, who was manning the register, looked up as Kisuke passed and gave a curt nod before stepping out from behind the counter. "Jinta, take over for a bit," the large man rumbled as he followed his boss out of the shop. The boy complied, though he did so with a fair bit of muttered complaining.

Outside the shop, the sunlight was just beginning to warm the air. Kisuke closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a happy smile teasing his lips as the faintly crisp air entered his lungs. It was going to be a beautiful day, he could just tell it. He looked to his left at the sound of Ururu's giggle and his smile widened as he watched Miss Kuchiki draw something in the dirt with the tip of her finger. She was being _very_ careful about how she squatted in front of the younger girl, who was being just as mindful that she didn't get any dirt on her own skirt.

"Well, well, isn't this a pleasant sight," Kisuke called as he walked over to them, his grin widening as Ururu gasped in surprise and quickly excused herself to go inside.

Miss Kuchiki stood as well, a small flush of embarrassment at having been caught playing in the dirt crossing her cheeks as she hastily wiped her hands clean. Her gaze dropped to where Yoruichi was tucked against his chest and her eyes widened in shock before that blush deepened to a dark scarlet shade. Apparently, she hadn't forgotten about their earlier conversation involving pussy.

"Did Ururu find everything you need?" he asked as he slowly ran his hand repeatedly over Yoruichi's fur, silently letting his guest know that he hadn't forgotten it either.

Nodding stiffly, Miss Kuchiki oh-so-casually scuffed her shoe through whatever she'd been showing Ururu how to draw and said, "I suppose so. I can't believe students here have to carry around such heavy bags every day."

Chuckling lightly, Kisuke shrugged and said, "Think of it as endurance training. This is my assistant, Tessai. Since the owner of the shop has to stay here and make certain it doesn't go down in flames, he'll walk you to school today."

"We've met already," she stated grimly as she lifted her school bag to her shoulders. Then, hesitantly, she looked away and added, "If I can't find him…"

"You'll come back here, regroup and try again tomorrow," he finished for her. A small, grateful smile crossed her lips over that reassurance. "And if you _do_ happen to get lucky and find him on your first day-,"

"-I'll keep you informed." Sighing as she rotated her neck to ease the tension from her shoulders, Miss Kuchiki flashed a confident smile and said, "Okay. Let's get this over with." Tessai grunted his agreement with that statement and motioned for her to walk with him away from the shop.

Grinning, Kisuke waved happily after them and called, "Have a good day at school! Play nice with the other kiddies, okay?" The irritated look both his client and his assistant shot over their shoulders only amused him further. He waited until they were out of sight before he glanced down at the cat in his arms and said, "So… what do you think?"

Yoruichi tipped her head back to regard him suspiciously. "Isn't that the skirt you were trying to get me into for years?" she asked curiously.

"Yes. I figured it might as well get _some_ use, seeing as you refused to humor me."

"Huh. And you're keeping this strictly professional, right?"

Frowning at her, Kisuke gave her hip a good, hard pinch and recoiled when she moved to bite his hand. "Of course I am," he replied indignantly. "Why would you even ask such a thing?"

"Because I know you, Urahara Kisuke. And I _know_ you could have found a proper school uniform if you'd really wanted to. You just enjoy ogling her legs."

"Well, if _you_ would have agreed to wear it for my birthday, maybe I wouldn't have to –OW!" Kisuke dropped her quickly in favor of rubbing the scratches she'd raked across his face. He frowned as he watched her stalk off down the street and briefly entertained the idea of declawing her in her sleep before letting out a heavy, abused sigh and walking back into his shop.


End file.
